Tag Archives: Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds

Coffee, Sunrise, Fall

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What could be nicer, right?

I’m trying to not notice the lack of summer around here and focus only on how beautiful the morning is here in Crazeysburg. And it is actually really beautiful. And it’s already gotten up to a walloping 50 degrees Fahrenheit!! Yay!

Anyway.

Yesterday was so weird.

I got a lot done. Finished the rather complicated manuscript formatting they needed for 1954 Powder Blue Pickup and then sent it off. I will keep you posted!! (I never like to be 100% sure about something until I have the signed contract.) (I did get the signed contract back for “Half-Moon Bride” on Tuesday, btw. So that’s a go!)

Then I FINALLY fixed the formatting for the print edition of The Guitar Hero Goes Home !!! And I uploaded it. Hallelujah!! However… the new cover design Valerie did that fixes the problem of the old cover art skewing once it was in the Amazon template, was saved in a format that was enormous. And I mean, enormous. The only thing that fit into the template when I uploaded it yesterday was the barcode. Seriously. That’s how huge it was. The entire cover was a giant-sized version of the barcode.

So, since Valerie is obviously not working these days (her mom’s funeral is today), I left the original cover art for now. But the inside of the book finally looks perfect. I was so happy.

But then, for some reason, when the trash pickup truck came to collect stuff yesterday, they didn’t pick up all the clippings from the hydrangea (8 bags worth). And this really upset me because I don’t want to keep looking at all those dead hydrangea blossoms — they make me so sad. So I called the company and they said that a different truck was picking up yard waste and would be over before 5:30pm, but I just knew that they weren’t going to come, and they didn’t.

So they are supposed to come today and get them — and they were really nice about it. But for some reason, it just made me so sad yesterday. I couldn’t really snap out of it. (The amount of windows I have in the house makes it almost impossible to not see 8 yard bags filled with dead hydrangea blossoms sitting out by the curb everywhere I go in the house. Plus it was drizzling rain all day, and cold. And I kept feeling like the flowers were blaming me for killing them and tossing them to the curb…)

And then I wanted to set up the web site for Marilyn’s Room Books yesterday, but I have to wait until Oct. 5th before I can redirect the domain to WordPress, and mapping the domain instead just got way too complicated. So that didn’t happen.

And then I decided to re-watch that Brian Jones documentary, which I’d forgotten to say was really, really good. Very disturbing, though, since they provide a good argument for saying that Brian Jones did not drown in his (chlorinated) swimming pool from an asthma attack and too much alcohol, but was in fact murdered in the little fresh-water trough at the side of his house by the builder whom he had just fired. (His autopsy does state that there was fresh water in his lungs, not swimming pool water, but his whole case has been mysteriously sealed for 75 years, of which there are still 24 more years to go!) The whole documentary was just really well done. but sad, and I watched it again.

Obviously, none of this is unbearable awfulness, but for some reason, it just contributed to me having a yucky day.

But today just feels world’s better. It really does. Today, I’m going to be working on a new erotic short story for the upcoming Muse Revisited Volume 4 — which will now be “Selected Taboo Erotica” from 1994-2020. (6 previously published stories, and one brand-new one, all of them D/s and pushing the boundary of questionable consent. It will be about 200 pages, 75,000 words.)

So I’m guessing I’ll have a really fun day.

And tomorrow, I’m having lunch with Kevin, the director of my play! So I am really looking forward to that. I have not socialized with a soul since the July 4th weekend, when I had dinner with Kevin and his husband at the Granville Inn.

Since today is October 1st, folks, that means it’s been 3 months since I’ve seen anybody. Well, I mean, anybody that I actually know.

Very early this morning, I had a very interesting dream, though. I dreamed that one of the Nick Cave sites I follow on Instagram posted the lyrics to “The Train Song.” And I was dreaming about the song (and then the train actually went by outside my window, too, which is nowhere near as sleep- disturbing when all the windows are closed).

But the dream was actually really cool. Even though I was back living with my adoptive mom, she wasn’t  home. And it didn’t seem as if she was ever going to come back, but she’d left behind all her diamonds — plus she’d left the house in a big mess. (I’m guessing that all symbolizes my consciousness re: her.)

But it was really sunny and I had a big wooden deck out back, with a patio and a big privacy fence around the patio, and it was filled with all these young friends. (Which in itself made for a great dream because I have, like, 3 friends left in the whole world now.)

Everyone was socializing and happy, instead of practicing social distancing and wearing masks. And a young lesbian black woman  brought me a gift — a pruned rose bush that was still young — in a flower pot. And she gave me all the instructions I needed for it to bloom. I was so excited. (Roses are my favorite flower, followed closely by lilacs.)

Inside the house, I had a pet bird in a cage. But the bird somehow got out, but I was able to easily get it with my hands and put it safely back in the cage and take it out to the back patio with me. (It was so cool to have a bird that wasn’t afraid of me.) (Plus, when I woke up, I was immediately thinking about that phrase, “a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush.”)

Anyway, I woke up feeling really happy.

And on that happy note…

I’ll get to work here on the new erotic short story. And get the day happening around here. I hope you’re having a nice Thursday, wherever you are in the world. I’m leaving you with “The Train Song” since Disc #1 of B- Sides & Rarities was already in the CD player in the kitchen anyway! How fortuitous! So enjoy, gang. And thanks for visiting. I love you guys. See ya.

“The Train Song”

Tell me how long’s the train been gone?
Tell me how long’s the train been gone?
And was she there?
And was she there?
Tell me how long’s the train been gone?

Tell me how many coaches long?
Tell me how many coaches long?
What did she wear?
And what did she wear?
Tell me how many coaches long?

Tell me when did the whistle blow?
Tell me when did the whistle blow?
And did she tie her hair?
And did she tie her hair?
Tell me when did the whistle blow?

© 1990 Nick Cave

All is Well Here in Crazeysburg!

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Sorry I was not able to get back here to post more yesterday, but I was hard at work on 1954 Powder Blue Pickup for another 12 hours.

However, it is DONE, gang! And I just love it. I really do.

It’s 62 pages, about 35,000 words. I will go over the whole thing a final time today and then send it off to the new publisher tomorrow. And then we shall see.

For me, personally, it’s my most favorite thing that I’ve ever written. And I have written a whole heck of a lot of stuff, gang. But I just love this one.

And as is par for my usual course, it’s a love story with an implied “happily ever after” ending — but before we get to that happy ending, it’s indescribably filthy as hell!! And it’s totally hardcore and pushes every boundary of “questionable consent” imaginable. (As all good love stories should, in my happy opinion! Yay.) Okay.

So, golly, I am exhausted here. But I’m just really, really happy.

I’m going to dash into town to get the groceries here in a minute, and then spend the whole day doing the final edit on the book, because tomorrow, I absolutely must  prune back the hydrangea so that the dead blossoms, etc., can be picked up for yard compost when the truck comes by on Wednesday.

All of my neighbors now have their autumn mums on their porches, and their various pumpkins and decorative fall squashes and even Halloween lights!

And yet I still have all my summer petunias out, and all my happy little summer bird ornaments, and yard angels and summer “Welcome” signs and mosquito-repelling candles, etc., so I have to sort of kind of get with the program somehow — although I’m keeping my petunias until the frost comes and kills them.

Still, I’m going to gather all the various flower boxes onto the kitchen porch, so that at least the rest of the house & barn look like they’re appropriate for fall.

And then I guess we’ll get ever onward to the close of another year.

Well, I have not been able to actually speak to Valerie yet about her mom’s death. It will probably be several days before she’ll be taking any phone calls.  It has just been a really, really rough year for her. Big changes now for her, too. She is the last one left in her family now. Her younger brother died a very long time ago (he used to be my computer guy, back in the Dark Ages), then her dad died a few years back, and now her mom.

I tried to find a photo I have of her and her mom and one of her aunt’s heading off on a trip to Ireland many years ago, but I can’t find it. But they are all super-NYC Irish-Catholic blue-eyed blondes, and they all looked exactly alike. It was sort of uncanny.

Anyway, I feel very sad about that.

Okay, well, while hunting for that photo of Val and her mom, I saw that Nick Cave sent out a new Red Hand File just now. It appears to have something to do with magic, but I have not read it yet. Perhaps we can all follow this link and go over there and read it together!! Yay!!

Other than that, folks, well, I honestly have nothing going on over here. I have just been in another world, trying to get that novella written.  And it looks like I am gonna close this now, scoot into town, and then get right back to work on it so that I can officially say it is done!

I leave you with, like, the very first thing I saw on Instagram, the moment my eyes opened today. So I played it at breakfast. Rather intense breakfast-listening music; I’m not sure what the cats thought of it. (They do tend to prefer Broadway show tunes, frankly.) But it was Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds’ version of an old Leadbelly song “Black Betty.” As far as I know, it’s only on their B Sides & Rarities album (2005), but was recorded (as a B-side) in 1986.

So I leave you with that, oh, and I guess, in honor of my cats, I’ll also leave you with my hands-down favorite Broadway show tune of all time — “Letters” from the ill-fated Broadway fucking  amazing show, “Natasha, Pierre & the Great Comet of 1812.” It was based on a lesser-known Tolstoy novel (just kidding — it was based on War & Peace), and I had tickets to see it in September 2017, when I went to NYC to work with Sandra on our other play. And I was so FUCKING excited to see it but the darn thing CLOSED before I could get there. (It was really, really unfortunate why that show closed, but I won’t go into it here.)

Okay, enjoy and thanks for visiting, gang. Have a terrific Monday, wherever you are in the world! I love you guys. See ya.

That’s Right!! Heading to the Store Today!!

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Oui, c’est moi! The “demon on wheels” — Speed Racer. At least I am on Monday mornings, when I head into to town to get the groceries. (Play this 1 minute intro. It’s so fun!!)

Sadly, though, when I needed to renew my car lease, Honda was not offering a “powerful Mach 5” so I had to settle for a boring Honda Civic, instead.

(Although loyal readers of this lofty blog no doubt recall that what I really wanted was a Dodge Hellcat, and that the moment I signed the lease for the Civic and was leaving the Honda show room with it,  across the street, in the Used Car lot, was a used Hellcat….)

Ah well. At least with my brand new Honda there’s, like, zero maintenance ever. Not so with a used Hellcat.

And honestly, me in a Hellcat would just be such bad news out here in Muskingum County, where there is almost always no Sheriff. And even though my Honda doesn’t go from zero to 60 mph in (literally) 3 seconds, as the Hellcat does, it at least goes from zero to 60 in less than 10 seconds… (every single time a red light turns to green.)

Okay!!! So yes, I am going to get groceries the minute I post this to the blog. And it is another stunning day here today, although the days are just generally cooler now. But it is still just beautiful.

Yesterday was a really big adventure for me.

Loyal readers of this lofty blog no doubt recall that back when last fall began to change into winter (or something like that), the ceiling in my downstairs bathroom leaked really ferociously during a lengthy torrential downpour of rain, thunder, wind, etc., sending plaster to the floor.  And while yesterday, we did not have a lengthy torrential downpour of rain, thunder, wind, etc. , big chunks of that same part of the bathroom ceiling actually came down and was incredibly gross and yucky and awful — it had something to do with me putting off getting the roof re-sealed this past spring because I was so enamored with the idea of getting a new roof on my barn after that heavy wind came and blew the old barn roof right off and set it not too gently down in my backyard.

Oh my god, right?  Where are the handymen when you need them to be living with you free of charge at all times and handling all your many, many, many DIY housing issues?? I sure don’t know. All I know is that I have an exceedingly unattractive ceiling in my downstairs bathroom now, and I can’t really do a darn thing about it until I get the roof re-sealed, otherwise it’ll just happen all over again. And whoever it is who finally does come to re-seal that roof is gonna see that I have really seriously let my gutter go on that side of the house, too (because it’s on that side of the house and no one sees it — many, many teeny tiny maple trees are growing in that gutter), and he is gonna wonder what my fucking problem is. Why bother to own a home if you’re just going to  be insane? (But writing porn is extremely time-consuming… I simply can’t focus on everything around here.)

Anyway. It is indeed upsetting.  I hate to put in an insurance claim on that roof because then they just go and up your annual premium as punishment for actually using your insurance. (And while there are indeed certain types of punishment that I enjoy and perhaps even encourage, rising insurance premiums are not among them.) And oddly enough, just yesterday morning, when I was outside taking care of all the many flowers that are still in bloom, I was looking at that barn and feeling so happy about that new roof on that barn…

Aaaaarrrrrgh…

Oh well.  You know what I’ve decided to do about it for now, right? That’s right: Ignore it.

Okay. So I am still very happy with how the work is going on the new erotic story, “1954 Powder Blue Pickup.” Although, yesterday afternoon, after I had to take a HUGE chunk of time out to clean up that darn bathroom, I found that I was at a place in the story where I was unsure of just how intense I wanted it to get.  I am still thinking that it could be a novella, and if that’s the case, then it really does have to get kind of intense or the plot won’t sustain the length of it.

And I won’t explain exactly why, because I don’t want you to know how my brain actually works, but then I was off on this weird and rather unending tangent, involving Pasolini’s film, Salò: or the 120 Days of Sodom — which, if you haven’t already seen it, I would not suggest running out to see it (or stream it), because if you in fact need to see a film like that then you’ve probably already seen it and know it well.

I’ve seen it and I know it well.

It is, of course, disturbing. But I believe I understand what Pasolini was trying to process (about Nazis and Fascists) by creating that film. And then I was thinking about the Marquis de Sade’s original book, 120 Days of Sodom, which is quite different but which he wrote while incarcerated in the Bastille prison in Paris for 37 days… And I also believe I understand what Sade was always trying to process when he wrote all the books he wrote. (I think I also know what the Bible was trying to process when it wrote about Sodom & Gomorrah… but that, indeed, is a whole other story, and one that interests me way less than Salò or Sade’s 120 Days of Sodom. )

Anyway, it is sufficient to say, that after the bathroom ceiling came down, and after I spent time cleaning it up and spluttering the f-word nonstop, and after I went down the intensely intense rabbit hole of Pasolini and Sade, I was kind of spent and could not really get back to work on the new short story.

However, that said! I feel completely confident that the work I’m gonna get done on it today will be very, very, very good! So I’m excited.

But I’m still not sure if I will post any more excerpts from it to the blog. I probably worry too much. But I guess we’ll just see. (Mostly I worry about how much it skirts the “questionable consent” thing.) But we’ll see.

Okay! I guess I’m gonna scoot into town now and get those groceries. I hope you’re having a great Monday, wherever you are in the world. I’m leaving you with something I saw on Instagram this morning — a Neil Young song, but done by Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds! “Helpless.” It’s on their B Sides & Rarities CD from 2005, but I think they recorded it in 1990? Anyway. Enjoy. Thanks for visiting. I love you guys. See ya!

Best Laid Plans of Mice, Men, Cats, etc.

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Well, today did not go anywhere near as planned, so I am posting this tonight, and it will serve as tomorrow morning’s post, gang.

I really want to be able to get started first thing tomorrow morning on “Half-Moon Bride” and see if there’ s any chance whatsoever that I can get it completed tomorrow, or at least very close to completed. Mainly, I just want to be able to get this story off to that new publisher and see if my upcoming erotic stories are going to be a good fit for them or not, so that I can re-direct my publishing focus, if possible.

Today was intense. It started out seeming like a perfect day — everything seemed perfectly suited for just sitting at my desk and writing — including the amazing weather.  Loyal readers of this lofty blog are no doubt intensely aware that I’m trying to write the final “anal sex scene extravaganza” and then the (rather long) short story will finally be done.

But now it turns out that my 90-year-old father is having severe prostate problems again and has to go into the hospital next week for more tests and to see if he needs more surgery. And suddenly, this intense anal sex scene between two hermaphrodites that was in front of me on my laptop is blown right out of the water and all I can think about for the remainder of the day is my 90-year-old dad’s prostate.

Try as I did, I could not get that vision out of my darn head. I could not write anything anally erotic at all.

I even tried looking at pornhub and motherless.com, to see if maybe I could you know, get in the mood or something, and everything suddenly looked absolutely disgusting to me. Not a feeling I generally have regarding porn.

So I went outside and took a walk. I tended to my petunias. I vacuumed the house again. I finally watched the end of Miss Fisher and the Crypt of Tears on Acorn TV.  Nothing could re-direct my focus. So I finally gave up.

I’m hoping that by tomorrow, my thoughts will be my own again and I can get back on track here.

But it is indeed a truly lovely evening here tonight. I sat out on my kitchen porch for quite awhile and I thought, well, maybe the blond boy will drive by on his motorcycle, and I can see him sort of up close rather than just from my upstairs window — and the very moment I thought that, he walked right past me! Right past my porch. He wasn’t on his motorcycle.

And I figured that since it’s a Friday night on a holiday weekend and he’s a teenager, he’s probably heading to some sort of party/gathering where everyone is drinking beer and smoking weed around a bonfire — and he doesn’t want to risk fucking up his motorcycle. So I thought that was pretty cool. (And I also thought it was pretty cool that the very moment I thought of him, he was suddenly standing right in front of me…)

So that was my big entertaining event here in Crazeysburg this evening!

Now I’m going to find an old movie to watch (Cary Grant and Grace Kelly in Hitchcock’s To Catch A Thief is looming large in my queue, even though I’ve seen it many, many times. I just love it! The French Riviera, the fashions, the sexy rapport between Grant & Kelly…) (If that doesn’t make me stop thinking about my dad’s prostate I’m guessing that nothing will!)

to-catch-a-thief-grace-kelly-cary-grant-1 - Reel Life With Jane

Okay, well, I hope that you have a great Friday night if you’re reading this early — or a terrific Saturday if you’re reading this tomorrow! I was thinking some more about that new Nick Cave tee shirt on Cave Things (see my post from earlier today) and it struck me as really cute that the tee shirt says “don’t touch me” but the spider on the tee shirt is made of felt and sort of calling out to be touched. And apparently, the drawing of the spider is based on an actual tarantula trapped in amber that he owns, and of course the line “don’t touch me” is a lyric from his song “Girl in Amber.” So, well, that’s one of the many things I was thinking about while trying to not think about other things that I was thinking about today!

And that’s a round about way of saying that I’m leaving you with “Girl in Amber” from Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds’ Skeleton Tree album from 2016. I think I’ve posted it here before, but this is the version from the Live in Copenhagen movie, not the official video. It’s a really beautiful song, and even while I don’t completely understand it, I identify with it very intensely, for some reason. Okay, so enjoy! And have a great Saturday. Thanks for visiting. I love you guys! See ya.

“Girl In Amber”

Some go and some stay behind
Some never move at all
Girl in amber trapped forever, spinning down the hall
Let no part of her go unremembered, clothes across the floor
Girl in amber, long to slumber, shuts the bathroom door
The phone, the phone, the phone it rings, it rings, it rings no more
The song, the song, the song it spins since nineteen eighty-four
The phone, the phone, the phone, it rings, the phone, it rings no more
The song, the song it’s been spinning now since nineteen

And if you want to bleed, just bleed
And if you want to bleed, just bleed
And if you want to bleed, don’t breathe a word
Just step away and let the world spin

And now in turn, you turn
You kneel, lace up his shoes, your little blue-eyed boy
Take him by his hand, go move and spin him down the hall
I get lucky, I get lucky cause I tried again
I knew the world it would stop spinning now since you’ve been gone
I used to think that when you died you kind of wandered the world
In a slumber til your crumble were absorbed into the earth
Well, I don’t think that any more the phone it rings no more
The song, the song it spins now since nineteen eighty-four
The song, the song, the song it spins, it’s been a spinning now
And if you’ll hold me I will tell you that you know that

And if you want to leave, don’t breathe
And if you want to leave, don’t breathe
And if you want to leave, don’t breathe a word
And let the world turn

The song, the song it spins, the song, it spins, it spins no more
The phone, it rings, it rings and you won’t stay

Don’t touch me
Don’t touch me
Don’t touch me
Don’t touch me

© 2016 Nick Cave, Warren Ellis

Pornographers Hard at Work!!

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I am of course just kidding ! Clearly, those are cats having tea at the club!

These are, in fact, pornographers hard at work:

Lighting Department stenographers, 1935 | Item 9929, Enginee… | Flickr

Anyway!!!!!

Yes, well, I hate to label what I write as “pornography,” try as most people have done, over the decades, to get me to see it that way.  I still call it “literary erotica.”

However, that said,  “Half-Moon Bride,” my new erotic short story that is inching ever closer to completion,  is probably leaning way over to the pornographic side of any “erotica” I’ve ever written.

I just cracks me up, gang. The story is just so intensely intense. And there is just no story arc whatsoever — unless you consider going from “being a virgin to being absolutely in no way whatsoever a virgin” a story “arc”…

However, even if I say so myself, it is very well written!

Yesterday, as I sort of paved the literary way for the grand “anal sex” finale of the story, I spent no less than 8 hours writing and re-writing and re-writing yet again, the 2 pages that lead up to the beginning of the anal sex stuff. It’s just unreal. It’s like this story is never going to end. Everything is so tightly focused.  (I’m already at 22 pages, 13,000 words, and except for some plot set-up on the first page, the entire thing is sex.  The entire thing. There’s next to no dialogue. No exposition. Very little to explain the setting — of course we know that there’s a full moon. And it’s their wedding night. But the rest is just endless, really tightly focused sex.)

Still, I am really having a blast writing this.  I will give up saying that I
“think I am going to finish it today,” because it’s clear that I have absolutely no idea anymore. All I know is that I want to finish as soon as I can because I want to send it off to the new publisher to see if it’s a good fit for them. And then go on to the next story, which is already tumbling around in my head.

On a related note… You might have seen my update last evening regarding The Guitar Hero Goes Home.

It is no longer for sale as an eBook on Smashwords. For now, it is only in Kindle Select, so that means it is part of Kindle Unlimited right now, so you can get it for free as an eBook on Kindle. (Or get it in trade paperback for $9.95.)

Once the 90-day restriction of Kindle Select expires, I will publish it as a global eBook through Lulu.com. The Windows 10 platform is not formatting the ePub file the way Smashwords wants it (they need it based on the 2007 model of Word docs.) And I already tore my hair out trying to learn the Windows 10 platform, and it works just fine on Kindle. So, since I no longer have 2007, which I need in order to format it for Smashwords, I had to simply remove it from there.

All of my other self-published titles are still available as eBooks on Smashwords, but I guess that, until they update their style guide for formatting ePubs with Windows 10, I won’t be publishing any new eBooks on Smashwords .

And you probably also saw by now the photo I took of the boy on his motorcycle zooming past my house yesterday afternoon, on his way home from school.

Well, as luck would have it, after I finally finished working on the short story last evening, I got up from my desk, and was standing in front of the window in my bedroom that faces east, and I saw the boy backing his motorcycle into the garage for the night. So now I know where he lives!  His house is across the street from mine, 5 houses down the street. Which means that the train basically runs through his backyard!

His house is one of those modular homes, which means it’s basically a really big mobile home. No basement, no attic, one-story. But it’s a nice one, and really well maintained. (And this morning, when I got out of bed at 5am, I noticed an incredibly bright star over his house. I’m not kidding. I’m guessing it was a planet or something, it was shining so bright.  I’m not sure which star would have been in the eastern sky and shining so brightly at that hour. Anyway, I thought that was kind of interesting.)

So here’s this teenage boy, just really good-looking, long straight blond hair, growing up in the tiniest town you can imagine, in a trailer home, with a freight train running through his backyard about 5 times a day , and he drives a motorcycle, and he smokes cigarettes, and he seems like just the happiest boy I have ever seen — he is always smiling. I can only imagine that every girl at that high school is in love with him.

And it makes me think that his parents have probably just been really, really good to him.  He just looks to me like somebody who is so loved.

Okay, so, Nick Cave’s Cave Things has a new tee shirt on pre-order. This one seems to be referencing his song “Girl in Amber” (the lyric “don’t touch me”), but with a nice felt spider as a cool accent! You can pre-order it here.

Okay, then!

Well, I guess I’m going to get started here today and see if we can’t move these happy hermaphrodites into some sort of anal sex extravaganza today!! And bring this short story to a close. We shall see. I at least managed to get them out onto the terrace before I quit writing last night. (Yes, they went from the enormous marriage bed, back out to the enormous stone terrace, overlooking the mountainside in the moonlight to have their anal sex — because I’m thinking that’s just how it is, right? We go outside to the terrace to have anal sex on our wedding nights…)

My god. Anyway. So I’m leaving you with a Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds song again today, this one from 1997, “Come into My Sleep,” which is on B-Sides & Rarities (2005). Enjoy it! I hope you have a great Friday, wherever you are in the world — and if you live Stateside, I hope you are gearing up for a great holiday weekend — officially, the last weekend of “summer.” (I’m guessing that a certain boy on his motorcycle will be zooming past my house all weekend long, with it being a holiday and the weather is expected to be absolutely perfect.) Okay. Thanks for visiting, gang. I love you guys. See ya!

“Come Into My Sleep”

Now that mountains of meaningless words
and oceans divide us
And we each have our own set of stars
to comfort and guide us
Come into my sleep
Come into my sleep, oh yeah
Dry your eyes and do not weep
Come into my sleep

Swim to me through the deep blue sea
upon the scattered stars set sail
Fly to me through this love-lit night
from one thousand miles away
And come into my sleep
Come into my sleep oh yeah
As midnight nears and shadows creep
Come into my sleep

Bind my dreams up in your tangled hair
For I am sick at heart, my dear
Bind my dreams up in your tangled hair
For all the sorrow it will pass, my dear

Take your accusation, your recriminations
and toss them into the ocean blue
Leave your regrets and impossible longings
and scatter them across the sky behind you
And come into my sleep
Come into my sleep
For my soul to comfort and keep
Come into my sleep

For my soul to comfort and keep – my sleep

Come on,
Come on,
Come on,
[repeat and fade]<

© 1997 Nick Cave

Getting There

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I think the full moon is making my brain a muddled mess today.

I keep puttering around, doing weird stuff.  Sort of sticking to my morning routine, sort of not. I even sat down here to post to the blog, totally forgetting that I hadn’t even done yoga yet, so I came to the unexpected decision that I’m not working out today. Even though I’m wearing my little “do yoga” outfit as I type this.

I also decided that I had to do laundry today — it was suddenly imperative. So I put the dirty clothes in the washer and there was maybe a half an inch of clothes! I sort of stared at it, wondering why I was so hellbent to do laundry, then I went ahead and started the machine anyway.

And even the trash pick-up truck seems to be acting strangely this morning. I’ve seen them drive by my house 3 times already, but they haven’t picked up my trash yet — they’re going on a whole different route. Which is incredibly weird because we have about 6 streets here in Crazeysburg, so why on Earth would you suddenly need a new route, you know? Is it more efficient to drive past people’s houses 3 times?

Not sure what’s going on there. But part of me immediately panics when I see them pass me by, thinking that I forgot to pay the trash pick-up bill again. But they seem to just be driving strangely today.  So before I call them up and lose my fucking mind on the phone, I’ll just wait and see what happens.

Okay, well, yesterday evening, we came SO CLOSE to ordering the test proof for The Guitar Hero Goes Home. The print-preview machine was grinding out the proofing copy over at Amazon, it took forever, but when it was finally finished, the cover art was a fraction of a hair’s breadth too big for the template.

And this was after just a whole big long line of things yesterday that had already exasperated Valerie in trying to get the cover art, within the template specs, to me so that I could upload it. So it was disappointing. But we are almost there, gang.

I already know I don’t like some of the aspects of the layout of the text (well, 2 things), but they are super minor, and the next time around, I know better than to type an entire manuscript into a Beta-testing template. So on we go, right?

And another weird thing — suddenly, this morning, Instagram has started putting people I don’t even know at the top of my feed, putting the posts of people I actually do know, down lower in the feed. Of the 13,704 people I now follow on Instagram, I know maybe 4 of those people, so I would really like to have their posts at the top of my feed, since right now, I don’t have time to hang out scrolling on Instagram; I want to see only my favorite posts at the top of the page and then get off Instagram, because I need every spare moment right now to sit here and quietly lose my mind.

Actually, one of the downsides of letting go of my private Instagram account and making it a public one, is that now I have way too many people that I’m following. And the people I really did enjoy following for such a  long time,  almost never come up in my feed anymore. Yesterday, I saw a post from Benmont Tench and it was the first post of his that I’d seen in, literally, months. And he’s someone who posts all day long. I used to see him first thing in the morning and then last thing at night, and his posts were always funny, charming, etc.  And I really loved his posts. (He was the life-long piano player for Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers.)

Oh, which reminds me. Today is the anniversary of the death of Conway Savage, who was the piano player for Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds for a really long time. Nick Cave wrote an amusing tribute to him in his Red Hand Files for today. You can read it here.

Okay, well. I’m hoping today will be productive, even though I am clearly in this strangely befuddled mindset. I had wanted to drive into town today to do something very important but now I’m wondering if getting into the car and driving 95 miles an hour today is the best idea. I guess we’ll just find out.

I’m just in one of those weird spaces where life feels intensely unmanageable. I know it will pass…

I’m going to leave you today with Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds’ version of “Stagger Lee”, because for some reason, I always really liked Conway Savage in this video. Well, I like everybody in this video. I just love this video. I’ve posted it here before, of course, but here it is again.  I hope you have a good Wednesday– enjoy that full moon (btw, they just picked up my trash! So if I lose my fucking mind today, it won’t be while I’m on the phone talking to the trash pick-up people). Okay. Thanks for visiting. I love you guys. See ya.

It’s Monday — Already??!!

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Honestly, gang. I cannot believe it is already Monday again. Time to drive back into town and go get the groceries. It feels like I just did that!!

However, the fact that I have only a pint of blueberries and 2 cartons of yogurt in the fridge assures me that it is indeed Monday. So off I will go to town (the next county), as soon as I’m done posting this.

(And the good news continues, as the number of active cases in the next county continue to plummet!) (However, what continues to rise, is the number of college students coming to Ohio with active COVID 19 cases… Ohio has tons and tons of colleges including the massively huge Ohio State University, which just announced 922 new cases!! ) ( I am exaggerating, gang!!!! But it’s just a ridiculous amount of college kids here, heading in to college infected.) (Hope their summer was nothing but FUN.)

I also cannot believe it is now the last day of August. Sometimes I feel like I am just going to sail off into oblivion, and that the fears & politics sustaining this current virus are never going to leave our culture (and where were the “politics” when 60 MILLION Americans had swine flu in 2009 and the country did not shut down??), and that this is just it and that my life, happy as it actually is, is just sort of over. And that each day, I’m simply sailing deeper into the sweet hereafter. Because nothing makes sense anymore — even while I’m gaining clarity on more and more things in my private world (and my private world is the only thing I take with me into the sweet hereafter, right? So….).

Well. I guess only time will tell if I’m actually still alive here or not.

The petunias are still looking great, but there are fewer and fewer blooms as they begin to bloom themselves out — a sure sign that September is on its way. It’s bittersweet. But we still have  several more weeks of blossoms ahead of us. And my toad is still doing great! Whenever it gets super hot, he still comes to sleep in the soil in that one specific planter on the front porch. I think he’s had a terrific summer. He looks really hardy!!

Yes, the erotic short story (“Half-Moon Bride”) continues… Each day, when I sit down at my desk to begin working on it, I think to myself: this is probably it; it’s probably going to come to the end today. And yet, I am always completely and thoroughly wrong.

And not only has the story not yet come to an end — even though I now know how it will end, I just have no clue how we’re getting there — I spent quite a good chunk of time yesterday, writing several pages of ridiculously filthy stuff, only to realize it was meant for another story altogether.

Yes, that’s correct. Over the weekend, while I was feverishly scribbling away on “Half-Moon Bride,” several other additional erotic short stories began coming to me, and so I was scribbling notes on those, at the same time

Too weird, right?? This sudden outburst of erotic short stories, while I have been focusing on erotic novels and memoirs for such a long stretch now? It feels like a proverbial dam has burst, or something, and now I am scrambling to keep up with the flow.

But anyway. Yes, so I worked on that whole section yesterday afternoon, and then realized, when I stole down to the kitchen to grab something quick to eat , and was on my way back upstairs to my desk: Wait! That whole thing is for a different story!!

So, I sat down at my desk, looked at the manuscript, and thought: Jesus. I need a break here. And so then I went back downstairs and watched the final episode of Miss Fisher’s Murder Mysteries from way back in Season 1 (2012), and tried to air out my brain. Then I began watching that brand new special full-length movie, Miss Fisher & the Crypt of Tears (2020). I only watched about 15 minutes of it, though, before I made myself go back upstairs and write some more.

I don’t know how many of you loyal readers of this lofty blog can remember all the way back to the spring of 2018, right after I first moved here? I happened to glance out an upstairs window one Saturday afternoon, as it had suddenly started to rain, and I saw this amazing teenage boy — long blonde hair, tall, lean, beautiful, wearing a plaid shirt, blue jeans — standing in the yard across the street from my house, right by the railroad tracks. And he was sort of rapturously taking in the sudden downpour. And I immediately fell  (maternally) in love with him and wished he were my kid! The joy, the freedom, coming out of him, and also the fact that he was just standing there, totally alone and so happy.

Well, I don’t know how old he actually is, but I think he’s still in high school — perhaps a senior now? (Meaning, his final year.) But he is clearly old enough to drive and now owns a motorcycle! And this is a very recent development.  All weekend long, (no helmet, of course), he was riding a blue motorcycle all over the streets of Crazeysburg, always coming to a stop at the STOP sign just outside my house, so that’s how come I knew for sure it was always him.

I was up here working away on the intensely filthy erotic tome, I’d hear the motorcycle come to a stop outside, I’d glance out the open window, and there he’d be — so fucking free and beautiful. And then off he’d go.

Boy, was he happy on that thing. And he is still so fucking CUTE. Long hair still,  but in a ponytail now. Just so young and so free.Alas,  I really wish he was my kid…

Although, when I was in Junior High and High School, I had no less than 4 male friends  die from motorcycle wrecks in the space of 3 years.  So, if I actually were his mom, I’d probably be freaking the fuck out over that fucking motorcycle and the “helmet optional” laws here in the State of Ohio… (And yes, I realize, I’m actually old enough to be his grandmother…)

Well, all righty.

I suppose I will close this and head into town now.  I hope you’re having a great Monday, wherever you are in the world. Thanks for visiting, gang. This morning, we were back to the Nocturama CD  by Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds (2003), specifically the song “Right Out of Your Hand”. So I leave you with that today! Enjoy, gang. I love you guys. See ya.

Right Out of Your Hand

Please forgive me
If I appear unkind
But any fool can tell you
It’s all in your mind

Down in the meadow
The old lion stirs
Puts his hand across his mouth
He has no use for words

Poor little girl
With your handful of snow
Poor little girl
Had no way to know

And you’ve got me eating
you’ve got me eating
You’ve got me eating
Right out of your hand

I mean you no harm
When I tell you you’re blind
Give a sucker an even break
He’ll lose it all, every time

The airborne starlings circle
One the frozen fields
The hollyhocks hang harmlessly
And the old lion yields

And you’ve got me eating
You’ve got me eating
You’ve got me eating
Right out of your hand

© 2003 Nick Cave

Howdy, Howdy! Sorry I’m late!!

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Kevin, the director of my play, Tell My Bones, has been hard at work, streamlining the play for the upcoming staged reading on StreamYard. And this morning, I had to read through what he’s come up with so far, and it absolutely amazed me, what a great job he’s doing!

I am so excited about this reading, gang. I just cannot wait.

But anyway, that’s what I’ve been doing here this morning — reading over the play. And so now I am late posting here.

Wow, is it humid today. Just unreal. It’s supposed to rain most of the day — I think remnants from Hurricane Laura. So we’ll see how that goes. But all I’m planning to do today is sit at my desk and finish writing the new short story.

I believe it is almost done, but, honestly, I don’t really know, since I wasn’t expecting to write this story in the first place. And I’ve just been sort of letting the story tell itself. (It’s about 20 pages now.) And I’m getting the pronounced feeling that a lot of people will be offended by the story, but what I’m hoping is that those kinds of people will read it and think they “should” be offended by it (or aspects of it), but instead find it disturbingly erotic.  (That’s when I know a story is a success!!)

I’m only partly kidding. But it is a really strange story.  (See previous posts from the last several days, re: “The Half-Moon Bride”.) You know, even when I’m reading over it, tweaking it, revising it, sometimes I’ll get to the end of a passage and just think: Wow, that was fucking EROTIC.

But then I’ll also laugh at myself because it’s just — I don’t know; it is such a weird story and it just keeps coming out of nowhere. And it is totally D/s, because I can’t seem to write anything that is not totally D/s for the life of me. Which means it goes down some of those murky “questionable consent” paths which are getting more and more “unmarketable” nowadays.

But I figure, my erotic stories have always been known for that. And some (women mostly) people get offended, but for the most part, readers are okay with it. I guess because they like D/s. And since I’m publishing myself now — oh, well.

So I just keep moving forward with the story, letting it be what it wants to be. And I think I am almost done, but we’ll see what today reveals.

All right. I’m going to get started here. Thanks for visiting, gang. I cannot believe it is already Friday — how the heck did that happen??? But enjoy the day, wherever you are in the world! I’m leaving you with a Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds song that I had not thought about in a really long time. (I saw it mentioned on Instagram yesterday and found it kind of staggering.)”Sail Away,” 1994, originally a B-side from Let Love In.

And when I was playing it yesterday, it occurred to me that I haven’t played Discs 1 or 2 from B Sides & Rarities (2005) in a really long time. I always just stick in Disc 3 and play that one. So now I have Disc 2 in the CD player in the kitchen, which includes “Sail Away”…

Anyway, today I’m leaving you with “Sail Away.”  A darkly beautiful song. So enjoy. I love you guys! See ya.

Sail Away

[Verse 1]
I climbed the hill, lay in the grass
A little dark-eyed girl drifted past
She said all the best is come, it could not last
And the worst, it has come true
Her hands are small and fluttered up
I lay amongst the buttercups
I pulled on my coat and buttoned it up
For the worst, it had come true

[Chorus]
Sail away, sail away
To a place where your troubles can’t follow
Sail away, sail away
Save all your tears for tomorrow

[Verse 2]
Orphans of the city moved toward us
And the swallows swooped and the starlings warned us
And the peril in everything
It assured us that the worst had come true
And all my sorrows made their bed beside me
The shame, the disgrace and the brutality
And she whispered then “Let laughter flee.”
For the worst, it has come true

[Verse 3]
Dry your tears, forget while we’re here
Leave all your sorrows behind you
Never lose heart, all things will pass
To a place where your troubles can’t find you
She came beside me amongst my coat
Her breath was warm against my throat
We clung to each other so very close
For the worst, it had come true

[Chorus]
Sail away, sail away
To a place where no one can betray you
Take my hand through this night without end
For the worst, it has come to claim you

© 1994 Nick Cave

Who the Heck Knows Anything, Right??

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So much for working on Thug Luckless: Welcome to P-Town yesterday.

For some unknown yet delightful reason, I suddenly began writing a new erotic short story yesterday — I didn’t even know it was lurking in there, even though I do want to write more erotic short stories (see yesterday’s post). I came back from the market, put the groceries away, sat down at my desk and suddenly, the story was there.

It’s maybe almost halfway finished. I’m already at 4000 words. (I know! So odd, right? How stories will just suddenly come. Aside from speaking with Valerie for a bit yesterday, I was working on the short story for 9 hours, and will be working on it all day today, too.)

And what’s even all-out weirder is that it’s a futanari story. Futanari is now pretty much only a hentai porn term for hermaphrodites (generally: extremely sexy females who also have huge cocks) (in hentai animation). But it used to be more of a Japanese folklore term, a long  long time ago.

But anyway, I am not into futanari porn.  I find androgyny sort of appealing, a tiny bit, maybe,  but not enough to think I would ever in a million years write about it erotically. Ever.

And yet… 4000 words later, I’m not even halfway done.

So strange. But I won’t look a gift horse in the mouth.

The story is titled “Half-Moon Bride”. In Japanese folklore, a “half-moon” futanari was someone of one sex who switched sexes on the full moon. So I’m guessing you can kinda see where the bride on this particular wedding night is headed…. (and our poor bride has no idea what she is yet, but as luck would have it, she’s marrying a full-futa and so he/she is going to be able to help her out with that.)

I won’t go into any more of the details. Obviously, it’s hardcore fantasy erotica which is not the kind of erotica I usually write. So everything, on every level of this story, has been a complete surprise to me.

Well, okey-dokey.

The trip into town yesterday was illuminating. With school starting back this week, the grocery store was empty. However, the Home Depot parking lot next door to it was jammed. And some of the more breakfast-type restaurants were busy again (by social distancing standards). But, overall, lots less cars on the streets.

Going back to school seems to still change everything, with or without COVID. It just signals: Fall is coming. (And yet, it’s still August…)

Anyway. Life’s good.

Valerie and I are just about ready to sign off on the cover layout for The Guitar Hero Goes Home. And then I can order my test print and see if I’m happy or not. I still have to format the ePub file, but once I do that, the eBook will be published, too.

So we are almost there.

Well, I’m going to get started here today. I hope you are having a truly terrific Tuesday, wherever you are in the world!! I leave you with a song I have posted here before — one of my favorite songs by Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds, “Do You Love Me (Part 2),” from that truly amazing album Let Love In from 1994 (which seems like yesterday, but my higher math skills assure me it was 26 years ago… wtf???). However, in case you missed it the last time I posted it, here it is again!! So enjoy and thanks for visiting, gang. I love you guys. See ya.

“Do You Love Me? (Part 2)”

Onward! And Onward! And Onward I go
Where no man before could be bothered to go
Till the soles of my shoes are shot full of holes
And it’s all downhill with a bullet
This ramblin’ and rovin’ has taken its course
I’m grazing with the dinosaurs and the dear old horses
And the city streets crack and a great hole forces
Me down with my soapbox, my pulpit
The theatre ceiling is silver star-spangled
And the coins in my pocket go jingle-jangle

There’s a man in the theatre with girlish eyes
Who’s holding my childhood to ransom
On the screen there’s a death, there’s a rustle of cloth
And a sickly voice calling me handsome
There’s a man in the theatre with sly girlish eyes
On the screen there’s an ape, a gorilla
There’s a groan, there’s a cough, there’s a rustle of cloth
And a voice that stinks of death and vanilla
This is a secret, mauled and mangled
And the coins in my pocket go jingle-jangle

The walls of the ceiling are painted in blood
The lights go down, the red curtains come apart
The room is full of smoke and dialogue I know by heart
And the coins in my pocket jingle-jangle
As the great screen crackled and popped
The clock of my boyhood was wound down and stopped
And my handsome little body oddly propped
And my trousers right down to my ankles
Yes, it’s onward! And upward!
And I’m off to find love
Do you love me? If you do, I’m thankful

This city is an ogre squatting by the river
It gives life but it takes it away, my youth
There comes a time when you just cannot deliver
This is a fact. This is a stone cold truth.
Do you love me?
I love you, handsome
But do you love me?
Yes, I love you, you are handsome
Amongst the cogs and the wires, my youth
Vanilla breath and handsome apes with girlish eyes
Dreams that roam between truth and untruth
Memories that become monstrous lies
So onward! And Onward! And Onward I go!
Onward! And Upward! And I’m off to find love
With blue-black braclets on my wrists and ankles
And the coins in my pocket go jingle-jangle

© 1994 Nick Cave

What A Great Day Yesterday Was!!

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Oh my gosh, gang, I got such great writing done yesterday.

It was one of those days, where I sat down to the manuscript around 10:30am, and then the next thing I knew, it was 5pm. The day had absolutely flown. And the words just hit the page without any trouble at all.

I was so happy. It was just such a great day.

But then for some reason, I had some trouble sleeping last night. I’m not sure why. I awoke and then started checking stuff on my phone in order to keep my mind off of worrying. And there was an email from Valerie and she sounded really fed up with trying to get the text to look right for the back cover of The Guitar Hero Goes Home.

But as far as I could tell, the images looked just fine. I even got out of bed and checked them on my laptop, and I couldn’t understand what she was talking about. But she did seem really fed up with it.

Anyway, then I laid awake for 2 hours. Trying not to worry about everything under the sun. And then I was suddenly dead asleep for about 5 more hours (!!), and I had a really unpleasant, sort of post-apocalyptic dream. I had never actually had a dream quite like it before. And then my eyes sort of sprang open and I was awake.

But now — well I did all my Inner Being journaling, and my re-calibrating journaling and my meditation and I did the treadmill AND used my amazing new vacuum cleaner again!!! So I am once again in a great space and I think I’m going to have another great day.

Well, I guess this is going to be a short post today, folks. I want to get back to Thug Luckless: Welcome to P-Town. I hope you are enjoying your Sunday, wherever you are in the world.  Sort of scary that there is only one more weekend after this and then it will be September. I am really seriously trying not to dwell on it, how quickly this summer disappeared.

Don’t forget that the fan music videos are still going on today over at Bad Seed TeeVee. You can check them out at that link!

I leave you with my evening-listening music from yesterday. An old song that always makes me think of my biological half-brother, because this album (Centerfield by John Fogerty) was a huge hit the spring that I met my brother (1986 ). The album had already been out for a year, but the songs were still really popular. I was 25 years old when I met my half-brother for the first time, and he was 19. It was incredible and intense and he meant so much to me, from the very moment I met him.

He was/is an unbelievably insane alcoholic, and back then, he had a really violent temper when he got drunk. And he would just get SO drunk, with that hair-trigger temper. It got scary. But back then, my birth mom was living with this wonderful truck driver who was a lot scarier when he wanted to be, so it kept my brother balanced out. For a while.

Anyway. One gorgeous spring morning at dawn during my first trip to visit them, I awoke to find my brother standing next to my bed, teetering and swaying — he was so fucking drunk. And he looked down at me and said, “You are so pretty.” And I thought: oh, shit.

But he had his little portable boombox with him and he suddenly hit the play button and, super loudly, at dawn, everyone in the house sleeping, John Fogerty’s Centerfield album came blasting out. It was already one of my favorite albums , but now all I think of when I listen to it are those memories of that first time I met my half-brother.

All righty. Thanks for visiting, gang. I leave you with “I Saw It On TV” from Centerfield (1985). Enjoy!!! I love you guys. See ya.

“I Saw It On TV”

They sent us home to watch the show coming on the little screen
A man named Ike was in the white house big black limousine
There were many shows that followed from hooter to dootyville
Though I saw them all I can’t recall which cartoon were real
The coonskin caps Yankee bats the hound dog man’s big start
The A bomb fears Annette had ears I lusted in my heart
A young man from Boston said “sail the new frontier”
And we watched the dream dead end in Dallas
They buried innocence that year

[Chorus:]
I know it’s true oh so true cause I saw it on T.V.

We gathered round to hear the sound coming on the little screen
The grief had passed the old men laughed and all the girls screamed
‘Cause four guys from England took all by the hand
It was time to laugh time to sing time to join the band

But all too soon we hit the moon and covered up the sky
They built the bombs and aimed their guns and still I don’t know why
The dominoes tumbled and big business roared
Every night at six they showed the pictures and counted up the score

[Chorus:]
I know it’s true oh so true cause I saw it on T.V.

The Old man rocks among his dreams a prisoner of the porch
The light he said at the end of the tunnel
Was nothing but a burglar’s torch
And them that was caught in the cover are all rich and free
But they chained my mind to an endless tune
When they took my only son from me

[Chorus:]
I know it’s true oh so true cause I saw it on T.V.
I know it’s true oh so true cause I saw it on T.V.

© 1985 John Fogerty